Her watch read just before 6:00 a.m., prompting her to rise from the firm couch and move to the door, where she turned the chrome handle and eased it open.

The sounds continued until the image of a figure flashed by at the end of the hallway as they walked past.  A woman in a black full-length dress disappeared, only to reappear again moments later moving in the opposite direction and carrying something in her arms.  Office supplies.

Mona sighed and gently eased the door closed, then turned around to face the room, spotting something on the desk in front of her—a large piece of paper on the surface with a handwritten message.

Get some rest.  Went to get some things from my place.

She nodded and absently pushed the paper away with a fingertip, then turned to search for her bag.  Finding it at the base of the couch, she was picking through it searching for a brush when her phone rang and lit up inside.

“Mona?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Mawra.  Thank Allah I found you.”

Mona raised an eyebrow.  “What is it?”

“It’s Omar.”

She found the brush and pulled it out, setting the bag down.  “He’s not here at the moment.”  She glanced again at her watch.  “Wait, why are you–”

“Mona, he’s been in an accident.”

Her eyes froze.  “What?!”

“He’s been in a car accident,” the woman repeated.  “I just found out and ran down here.”

“What are you talking about?  When?!”

“They think about an hour ago.  They’re loading him into the ambulance right now.”

Mona’s heart quickly turned to panic.  “Where?!”

“Near the Arabian Mall.  They said they’re taking him to Coptic Hospital.”

“What happened?!” she said, nearly shouting.  “Is he okay?!”

The woman’s voice was calm.  “Just get to the hospital.”

***

It took forty minutes in morning traffic.  Forty long and agonizing minutes before Mona’s car roared into the parking lot and screeched to a halt in an open space reserved for hospital staff.

She leaped out and sprinted toward the emergency entrance, darting past a team of medical technicians on their way out. Glancing around, she immediately spotted her long-time friend and fellow journalist Mawra standing in the corner on her phone.

Upon seeing Mona, Mawra abruptly ended the call and rushed to meet her.

“How is he?!” Mona asked.

“He’s hurt.  They’re taking him into surgery right now.”

“Surgery?!”

“Easy.  Easy,” said Mawra in a calm voice.  “An expert just came in, and another is on his way.  They think he’s going to be okay, but they need to go in right away to stop the bleeding.”

Mona’s face became ashen.  She was completely stunned and disbelieving.

She’d just been with him.  What could have possibly happened?

Her mouth trembled as she fought to get the words out.  “I… was just with him.”

“Where?”

“At… his office.  Last night.”